When the Glass Shatters
by xxBurlesquexx
Summary: With a painful past and pernicious memory, the girls have changed. The heroic, compassionate girls have vanished, leaving broken and cold pieces behind. Can the Rowdyruff Boys mend the shattered hearts, when they could have prevented the break? Reds, Greens, Blues, Purples, and Silvers.
1. Chapter 1

Hi guys! This is my first ever story on fanfiction. I have been reading stories on here for over a year, and finally decided to write one! I welcome collective criticism. Let me know anything I can do to improve my writing or any ideas you guys have to the story! Enjoy the first chapter Of **When the Glass Shatters**

**Disclaimer: All of the characters except Burlesque, Bullet and Bandit belong to Craig McCracken.**

I looked out the window to take in the stunning April day. The budding leaves of the oak and birch trees rustle with the light breeze. The sun cuts through the air, illuminating the feathers of passerby robins. It's the first day of the year the sun decided to shine with accompanied warmth.

I quickly return my attention back to my geometry teacher. It would be noticeable if I wasn't paying attention, due to the class only having grand total of five students. Just as the teacher finishes his explanation on complex polygons, the bell chimes for lunch.

I rise from my seat and pack my pink binder in my tote bag and tuck a strand of pumpkin orange hair behind my ear. As I am exiting my chair, I'm roughly shoved into the corner of the plastic desk, eliciting a sharp inhale of breath from myself. It didn't hurt, due to my durability, but it did surprise me. I look up, my long bangs covering most of my eyes, and see some giggling girls smirk at me as they walk by. I look down once again and leave the classroom.

Walking down the C-wing hallway, the backs of my light pink flats are repeatedly stepped on. My hair is tugged as I pass other students. To escape the immutable torture for a few minutes, I slip into the girl's bathroom. It's vacant, due to the fact everyone is heading to lunch.

I look at my reflection and my eyes go blank. I see a thirteen year old girl with freakishly long, bright orange hair with an uncountable amount of split ends. Her straight across bangs cover her mutated ballerina pink eyes. Her outfit consists of a knee length pink plaid skirt paired with a white loose sweater.

I frown, as does the girl. No matter how many times I see this girl in the reflection, it will always be my own. I force a smile, and the reflection shows a grimace full of braces.

'_Great' _I think to myself.

Not only am I a complete nerd and have horrible style, but I'm too adamant about being a hero that I can't be unkind, ever.

I realize I've been frowning at the mirror for around five minutes and hope my sisters aren't worried. I exit the bathroom, entering an unoccupied hallway. I make my way to the cafeteria and see my four sisters waiting at the farthest table.

After my own little introspection, I can't help but analyze my sisters as well.

I avert my gaze to Buttercup. Her dark brown hair is cut to her ears. She has knee length black basketball shorts adorning her legs and a loose white and green T-shirt with a star on the center. She lifts her head and my pink eyes meet her bright green ones. She lifts the side of her lips into a tiny, shy smile. Then she looks back down at her food, not eating.

My scrutiny shifts to Bubbles. Her golden blonde hair is in her infamous pigtails, now resting on her shoulders. Her hair is tangled and crazy, having had to rush out the door to avoid being late. Bubbles flashes me a huge smile, but it doesn't reach her powder blue eyes. I notice bruises on her wrist again. Those girls have been spouting invectives at her again, I'm guessing. Bubbles is clothed in bell bottom jeans combined with a T-shirt sporting a wide-eyed bunny.

Bubbles turns to her left, resuming a conversation with my third sister, Bunny. Bunny nods occasionally, showing she is paying attention. Her light brown hair is tied in a messy low ponytail, with pieces of her bangs falling and covering her lilac purple eyes. Bunny shifts to fix her white capris and pull down her purple _Aero_ sweatshirt. Bunny smiles, but like Bubbles, her eyes are downtrodden.

My eyes move towards my last and newest sister, Burlesque. Her shoulders are hunched, her head is down, and she's playing with her hands. Burlesque's white hair is shielding her gleaming white eyes from sight. Her flare jeans and two-sizes-too-big sweatshirt completely swallow her form.

By the time I have finished assessing my sisters, I had already sat down. None of us ate. We had lost our appetite ever since some boys covered our lunches with worms unbeknownst to us at the time.

Speaking of those five boys, I see them outside under a tree, sitting with "Ms. Popular" Princess Morebucks her gang of four bimbos along with Mitch Michelson.

The first is Brick Jojo. He is sporting black jeans and a red t-shirt with an elemental fire symbol on it. His red eyes watched amusedly as an ant colony was being burned by a flame emitting from his fingertip. His dark red hair was tucked underneath a black and red OBEY snapback.

Next to him, lazily throwing a football into the air was Butch Jojo. His half-lidded dark emerald eyes followed the football's movement as he ran his other hand through his black, spiked up hair. Butch shifted his athletic short-clad legs to wipe some dirt off of his new black Air Jordons. A dark green T-shirt rested against his torso.

Lying on his back under the tree was Boomer Jojo. His wavy blonde hair fell in his royal blue eyes as he watched the clouds roll by with barely open eyes. He quickly jerked his head, removing the hair. His blue and black plaid button up crinkled with the movement, while his black jeans stayed immobile. One of his grey van adorned feet rose to scratch his calf.

Chuckling with Mitch was the fourth Jojo brother, Bandit. The soft breeze lightly tugged at his short brown hair. His dark purple eyes vanished behind his eyelids as he threw his head back to laugh at a joke told by his comrade. Mitch punched Bandit's University of Phoenix sweatshirt covered arm. Bandit responded by kicking his black DC shoes towards Mitch, causing his Black jeans to snap from the movement.

The last and newest brother rolled his eyes. Bullet sighed and winked at two passerby girls, to which they appropriately responded by giggling. His dark silver eyes held smugness, as his lips twitched into a smirk. He rested his head confidently against the tree, causing his shoulder length silver hair to reach his shoulder blades. With his hands behind his head, Bullet crossed one khaki clad leg across the other, causing his White t-shirt to collect at his stomach.

I reverted my attention back to my sisters to find them staring at the Rowdyruff Boys. I sighed and looked down. Yes, we all had slight crushes, but we would not admit it in a million years.

The boys had toned down their evil-doing, now just taking on the "bad-boy" persona. During the five years since they joined our school, our original place in the school switched with theirs. While they went from being exiles to kings, my sisters and I went from being icons to outsiders.

As little kids, friendliness and optimism was accepted, treasured even. Yet, as we rose through the ranks of school and landed in 8th grade, kindness was punished.

Buttercup was small and shy, unable to stand up for herself. Girls would constantly abuse physically because she was a "dyke". She saw herself as weak, being unable to stand up for the rest of us.

Bubbles was so open and friendly, other girls verbally abused her and sometimes got violent because Bubbles "wouldn't shut up."

Bunny was happy and carefree. Our peers saw that as instant prey and tried to take it away by tripping her and playing pranks on her, calling her "Boo Hoo Bunny" when they saw tears leak through Bunny's resolve.

Burlesque, well, she was so exceedingly shy, especially around boys. Because she would end up losing her voice when people approached her, some jocks would take advantage, nothing too serious, just coming onto her, just to see her squirm.

As for me, I was the typical nerdy nice girl. I was "Brace-face Blossom" or "Brainy Blossy". Too stuck in my leadership role of a heroine team, I won't use my powers against citizens; I just can't bring myself to do it; as long as I'm somewhat happy and a hero, I'll protect others.

The only reason my sisters and I aren't completely broken is because of the professor. He gives us the only comfort and support we have, besides each other.

"You girls are strong. You girls are brave. You girls are my treasures. Never forget what you are." Is what he says to stop our crying, or our oncoming depression. He's our life support.

As my sisters and I were conversing in hushed voices, we were unaware that Princess was approaching our table with a malicious smirk and her clique behind her.

"Hey Powersluts." She smirked at us.

"What do you want Princess?" I sighed, not wanting anything to happen to my sisters

"Well Brainy, I just wanted to say how useless you are. Haven't you noticed how unneeded you are? There haven't been any attacks since the police got better than you so called "Superheroes". Just wanted to enlighten you." She said in an innocent tone.

"Go away Whorebucks."

I turned around, astonished, as I looked at my youngest sister. Her head was still down, but her eyes managed to produce a weak glare.

"_Excuse _me, Birdy?" Princess snarled.

"Just leave us alone." Burlesque responded a little more strongly.

"You bitch!" Princess shrieked. She lunged forward to slap Burlesque, but I quickly stepped in front of the oncoming hand and took it full force. I opened my eyes and felt something slide down my cheek. I touched a hand to the liquid and brought it back. Black blood dripped from my fingers. I slowly glanced back at Princess, my cheek burning from a mixture of pain and the Chemical X knitting my skin back together.

"My daddy gave me a little something for my birthday. You girls aren't completely invincible anymore." Princess smirked, a crazed look in her eye. "Girls, lets show them why we deserve some respect."

Princess' gang of bimbos each grabbed one of my sisters and me, while Princess walked up to Burlesque.

"No one speaks to me that way, bitch." Princess whispered. She proceeded to deliver a punch straight to Burlesque's jaw. This was some sort of signal because as soon as Princess delivered the first punch, the rest of her gang began beating on us.

I heard a chorus of "Butterboy", "Bubble Brain", "Boo Boo Bunny", and "Hurlesque" before my own nickname was voiced.

A hard blow was distributed to my cheek, then my stomach. I fell to the ground, unable to bring myself to hurt another civilian. Kick after kick was delivered to my ribs. I looked up; my eyes squinted in pain, to meet Brick's eyes. He wasn't smiling like I thought he would be. I mouthed "Help." Then, he looked away.

A raging fury erupted in me, one unlike anything I have ever experienced. I grabbed the ankle that was about to kick me again and stopped it easily. I stood up still with the ankle in my grip. My grasp was constricting more and more each second I had it in my hand. I looked into the bimbo's eyes and they looked utterly terrified. I could see my reflection in them, but it wasn't the reflection with which I was usually met. My eyes were darker, more vicious and my hair had darkened to a fiery red. I took the bimbo's fear and hesitation to my advantage and broke her ankle. I smiled cruelly and proceeded to fling the damaged girl through the window. I saw my reflection in the window shatter.

I turned abruptly to help my sisters. However, each was alone, and each had a different look on their face. Buttercup looked livid and sadistic, smiling with glowing green eyes and pitch black hair. Bubbles wasn't smiling at all, but had an empty look in her cerulean blue eyes while her now platinum blonde hair fell in her face. Bunny's eyes were covered by dark brunette hair, it shifted, unveiling unfocused and now a dark royal purple. Yet, Burlesque was who shocked me most.

Burlesque was holding Princess by her throat, smirking confidently. Her now metallic silver eyes held humor as her lustrous silver hair billowed around her. Princess looked unequivocally petrified. Burlesque merely threw her on the ground, and punched her one last time in the nose, breaking it.

"We're done with you bitches." Buttercup growled.

I whistled at my sisters, they turned to me. Their hair slowly faded to its original color, yet their eyes remained unchanged; darker and venomous. I jerked my head in the direction of the broken window. We simultaneously jumped into the air and flew out. Not before my sisters and I turned to our counterparts and gave a cold, unforgiving glare. I didn't notice the sky darken and the cafeteria walls freezing. Not sticking around to see the result of my glare, I sped off.

"I'm never going back." I hear Bunny whisper.

"I know. We never will." I agreed quietly.

"Let's just talk to the Prof-" Bubbles began to say, but was interrupted by a low rumbling and a bloodcurdling scream.

I whipped my head around, my hair swirling like a fiery wall behind me as I looked at our home. Our home for eight years was in flames, the walls already caving in.

"PROFESSOR!" My sisters and I all shriek. We take off full force towards the house, faster than a jet, a sonic boom resonating behind us. We torpedo into the home, finding the living room in devastation, still blazing like an inferno.

We split up, searching at faster speeds than we ever had before.

"Blossom!" I hear Bubbles screech

I followed her voice to the basement laboratory. Underneath a mountain of rubble was the Professor. The other three girls flew in right after me. On an unspoken command, we lifted the garage sized heap of debris like it was a feather. The Professor's chest was rising in short, abrupt intervals. Bunny grabbed the Professor's legs while Buttercup grabbed under his arms and we soared out into the open air.

We put the Professor down and kneeled next to him. I held his left hand and Buttercup held his right.

"Girls…" We heard him force out. My sisters and I leaned towards him with glistening eyes.

"Girls… you're my… li-little girls… okay?"

"W-we know Pro-professor." Bunny choked out, tears streaming down her bruised cheek.

Next thing we knew the Professor was gone. His hands limp in our grasps. I shook my head, slowly at first then rapidly. "No no no no" I repeated over and over again while I tried shaking the Professor awake. I go up and paced away from the girls and our dead father. "NO!" I screamed as an explosion of ice blasted from my body. I crumpled to my knees.

I could hear Buttercup shrieking, as vines as thick as cars coiled around our obliterated home. Bubbles made no sound, not even when lightning struck at irregular intervals around her as the sky darkened with shadowy clouds. Bunny was pulling at her hair, shaking her head frantically as the wind picked up speed. We saw our neighbors cars getting picked up by the wind, as well as the fire truck barreling down the road, too little too late. Burlesque's tears dripped onto the ground as she began moaning a wretched melody, causing vibrations to jolt through the air.

I turned to my sisters; they stared back with empty eyes. We picked up our father, and flew away.

We didn't notice the five pairs of eyes watching from a distance.

As my sisters and I flew through the air, I noticed our hair had changed again. Yet, I knew it was permanent. Our hair reflected our grief, our damage. You can't fix what is shattered.


	2. Chapter 2

Here's Chapter two of When the Glass Shatters!

**Disclaimer: All the characters except Burlesque, Bandit and Bullet belong to Craig McCracken.**

**Five years later**

**Butch's POV**

I look up through the thick foliage of the forest, trying to see any hint of blue sky through the tortuous branches and prolific leaves. No blue sky or pure sunlight permeates the vegetation; only a green uncanny glow is projected throughout the forest. I tried my X-ray vision, and even then the sky was a blurry mass. A strong wind bursts through the wall of undergrowth, even stronger than yesterday. Honeysuckles and blueberry bushes have been replaced with thorn covered vines and poison ivy.

Even though it's August, it has gotten progressively colder, like a chill has invaded the air. There hasn't been a blue sky in a week, always portraying the same suffocating gray rag in the atmosphere.

I'm not one for cute little forest animals, but their sightings have been dwindling for the last week. Vicious canines and discomforting bats have replaced the typical mammals. I find my dignity declining when I realize I miss the tiny rodents.

Since last Sunday, a week ago, the forest has distorted into a horror movie-like setting, full of shadows and deleterious organisms. What is even more unsettling is the thorns can penetrate my skin. Nothing natural should have that capability. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I haven't mentioned it to my brothers; they all seem out of it, well, more out of it than usual.

Ever since the Puffs disappeared, nothing has been the same. Townsville managed relatively well, seeing as the police force had improved so much after the Puffs taught them how to actually do shit. School was much the same, though Princess had to find new victims. However, my brothers and I changed the most. We couldn't come to terms with the guilt we've felt these last five years. More than that actually, all the years Princess fucked with the Puffs, we sat back and didn't do shit.

We finally were accepted, we finally were looked up to, instead of frowned upon. We couldn't bring ourselves to sacrifice our newfound popularity to help our ex-enemies. Even if we thought they were goddesses among men.

'_Buttercup…'_ I inwardly sighed. I'm not a romantic, far from it. I still embodied the whole "bad boy" persona the most out of my brothers. Yet, I couldn't forget Buttercup. How she was before Princess's harsh invectives and torture. She was feisty, strong, and graceful. Princess took that away. Buttercup was turned into a small girl who hated herself for being weak.

I growled as I thought of Princess. We ditched that bitch as soon as we found out the Puffs disappeared. If we knew we would feel this way after they left, we would have defended them in a heartbeat. Now, we're all changed men.

Brick buried himself in his studies and dancing. Odd for Brick you may think, but he uses the fast paced nature of hip hop and break dancing to release built up stress. He became a stranger to his old friends, only opening up and laughing with our brothers, Mitch, and me.

Boomer turned to art, always the same person, just different settings and styles. With watercolors he painted a blonde haired girl drowning in her own tears. With pastels he creates a sunflower field with a blonde girl mid-spin with a breathtaking smile on her face. We never ask, but we know of whom it's drawn.

Bandit, to forget Bunny, took up fashion photography. There was never a dearth of willing girls wanting to be models. Taking a new girl's picture every week to disremember his evanescent crush, yet each girl he would Photoshop to possess purple eyes.

Bullet, well, he had a new girl every other day. Everyone thinks he is a heartbreaker, but he is just trying to find a girl that can maybe hold a candle flame to the inferno left by Burlesque. Bullet is the romantic, he believes in love at first sight one hundred percent. So after a day when a girl is still insipid, he realizes they aren't meant to be. In public places he sings upbeat songs of happy ever after's on his guitar or piano. Though, when alone, his songs are filled with angst and regret.

Me? Well, I never have a girlfriend, just hook up. All the girls have green eyes. Though never as captivating as Buttercups'. Rather than get all depressed, I lash out spontaneously. I participate in so many sports, not because of the social aspect, but because I need to release my pent up rage. Yet, sports are slowly losing their efficacy. Now, I'm just relentlessly pissed off. My fuse has been so short, when Brick inquires to what I'm doing, I explode.

I start to make my way out of the forest, trudging along the well-worn path I created from my many expeditions into the wood. As I'm about to exit the heart of the forest, I hear a low rumbling. I feel the vibrations in my feet. I pause.

Suddenly, a vine bearing six inch thorns shoots from the terrain, climbing skyward, coiling around an ancient pine tree. The thorns penetrate the tree, and I watch in utter amazement and incredulity as the tree withers in seconds.

I jump skyward and jet out of the forest as fast as possible, my dark green energy trail leaving a tortuous streak cutting through the air. The battering winds make my balance falter, but I regain my equilibrium and fly faster, desperate to escape this vitriolic wind. I hear a tremendous crack of thunder resonate through the atmosphere, shaking the area aggressively.

I finally land, unable to bear the wind. I stare unseeingly at the sky, aghast. Am I getting weaker? Thorns are penetrating my skin, wind is making me lose balance, my X-ray vision can hardly pervade foreign foliage in the forest, and I'm actually _cold_. I don't get cold! I'm Butch! The hottest guy on the planet!

I scowl at the sky and haul my ass home. I look up at the stone mansion in which I live. Mojo Jojo decided to be good after the Puffs left, something about how "The Puffs are gone, and because they are gone and no longer in Townsville, meaning they have moved, I have no reason to be bad, meaning no reason to be evil and destroy Townsville." So he became an inventor for the government, making high-tech weapons of destruction. Boring.

I enter the huge, spacious home and find it pretty much empty, except for our maid, Lucia. I slog up the stairs and enter my bedroom. Ya know, the usual dark green and black colors, huge bed, punching bag, dresser, high definition television with X-box, and an attached bathroom and closet.

I flop on my bed, but not before I reach under my pillow and pull out a picture. It's a school picture, cut out from the yearbook. Green background, horrible lighting, but the individual shined brighter than the sun. The individual has dark brown hair covering one scintillating eye, a small smile gracing their thin lips, and a baggy black t-shirt adorning their torso. I stare at the picture for some time, and then return it to the underside of my pitch black silk pillow case. I fall asleep with one thought lulling me to sleep:

_'I'll see you soon, Buttercup. I can feel it.'_

**I know it's short but it's necessary to explain the boys' reactions to the Puff's disappearance. **

**I already started writing the next chapter! Stay tuned for the first day on senior year. It'll be a day the Ruffs will never forget.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 of When the Glass Shatters!

**Disclaimer: All of the characters except for Burlesque, Bandit, and Bullet belong to Craig McCracken.**

**Boomer's POV:**

The painting looked back at me with sardonic bliss. I glowered at how happy the couple was, how they sat in complete contentment on a cherry wood bench, watching the glistening reflection of the sun set on the water. The pastels blended together to create a soft and soothing paradise. The couple in the masterpiece possessed hair as stunning at sunlight and a comfort as apparent as a deep sleep. Their hands fit together like a lock and key.

I rise from my desk, casting a shadow across the desktop from the open curtains. I stare at the artwork before me, and a breathtaking hopelessness overflows my veins. I turn abruptly and rip the curtains closed, the blinding light dwindling until it is no more than a remnant remembrance of a vicarious happiness.

I slumped in front of the closed curtains, clutching the fabric in my grasp. My head is drooping as my entire body trembles. Salty rivers flood down my cheeks and fall to the light maple wood flooring, joining the previous water stains already imprinted on the wood.

I wait until the torrent ceases to lift my head. I take the back of my hand and sweep it across my cheeks. I stare longingly at the painting. I gently pick it up, cherishing it like a lost dream, which it was. I take it and the black frame I bought today and mount it above my desk. Multiple paintings adorn my royal blue walls, all featuring the same blue eyed blonde.

The sun was quickly setting, the last fragments of light fading between the crack of the curtain. I mutter expletives beneath my breath as I grab my Hurley blue and black plaid backpack and start shoving binders and pencils into it. School was tomorrow, finally the last year of hell.

I straighten, as I get a melancholy feeling wash over me. I see a dark, unforgiving blue hue seeping through the curtains. I walk over, skeptically, and peak between the curtains.

The blue aura is radiating from a huge stone manor down the street. Every day for the last week, since the neighbors moved in, an eerie and depressing aura has emitted from the home. We haven't met the neighbors, they moved in within a matter of hours, no one catching a glimpse of them. Brick is extremely disturbed, seeing as when he tried to read the minds of the neighbors, he got nothing. Like when one radio transceiver is held by a frantic general, and the other, by a corpse.

Suddenly, the sky is invaded with inimical and foreboding clouds, more threatening than the ones there previously. Lightning begins crashing around the street. I noticed more so around the stone manor. Rain started to patter on the window pain, and then became a torrential downpour within a matter of seconds.

Just as I was about to close the curtains, I see blurred silhouette facing my house through the distorted glass of the window in front of the manor. I rub my eyes and return a startled gaze to the window, but no one was there, just an ordinary bluebird taking to the air. I close the curtains faster than sound and walk unseeingly to my bed.

I have distorted nightmares of a blue-eyed blonde staring at me from beyond a window for the rest of the night.

**Bandit's POV:**

A clangor breaks through my heavenly dream of a goddess with purple eyes. I groan and pull my dark purple pillow around my ears, desperately, but in vein, to block out the screeching alarm. I finally reach over and slam the alarm, splintering the plastic exoskeleton.

I rise from my ebony cot and reach above my head in a useless attempt to rid the soreness in my shoulders. I trudge to my closet and find my "first day of senior year" outfit that is guaranteed to awe all the freshmen meat arriving this year. I pull on a pair of torn black baggy skinny jeans with a thin purple and white striped pullover. I know it is summer, but it has been rather icy lately, and that's saying something since I don't get cold. I walk into my bathroom and grab a tooth brush and comb. Multitasking, I scrub my teeth as well as comb my dark brunette hair so the front it spiking up.

I smirk in the reflection. I may not be as conceded as Butch, but I sure as hell think I'm sexy. I just don't outright admit it verbally.

I grab my pitch black backpack and Nikon camera. I bound down the stair into the kitchen where Brick, Boomer, and Bullet are already sitting in silence eating the pancakes Boomer made. Although we have a maid, we prefer doing things ourselves. No use getting lazy now. Speaking of lazy, of course Butch was still sleeping.

I take this time to analyze my brothers' outfits. Brick had on dark blue jeans with a red T-shirt with a slight V-neck. The shirt bore a Chinese dragon design. He had his black and red OBEY snapback slammed on his head backwards. His fire red hair was kept in a loose ponytail with his bangs peeking out under the hat. That was the last hat he stole before the Puffs disappeared. That was the day Blossom's shirt got singed right off from Brick's pyrokinesis. Boy, was Brick happy that day.

Boomer had on normal blue jeans with a white and blue paid button down over a white T-shirt. The T-shirt had an elemental water symbol plastered on the front. The shirt was old and had authentic paint splatter covering it from his many masterpieces.

Bullet had white baggy skinny jeans on, not a stain in sight. His black V-neck had music notes in silver fabric floating over the front of his shirt. His shoulder length silver hair was, of course, brushed to so called "perfection".

Hard clunking came from the stairwell as Butch walked down, sleep still in his eyes. His raven hair was chaotic and standing on end. His legs were adorned in ripped black baggy skinny jeans hanging low on his hips. Chains hung from either side of the pants. He had a forest green muscle shirt with a black and green plaid opened button down covering his arms. His dark green beanie concealed most of his frenzied hair.

I grabbed a bundle of grapes and headed for the door. The rest of my brothers followed suit, Butch grabbing a green apple on the way out the door. We all took off into the sky, a spectral of color trailing behind us.

As we landed on the student infested front grasses of the school, an abrupt tugging in my head made itself known. I hit the side of the head and the tugging lessened, but did not dissipate. I shrugged it off, but stayed uncertain.

We entered the gray and red brick building, heading to the same lockers he have had for the last three years. Of course all of us had lockers next to each other. I shoved my camera on the top shelf and take a look in the mirror to my right. I smirk, _'Perfect'_.

Suddenly, the tugging in my head returns full force, physically knocking my head in the direction of the entrance. My tracking alarm shouldn't be going off; I hadn't been tracking anything, only one thing has been on autopilot for the last five years…

The hallway has gone utterly soundless; I could hear multiple heartbeats throughout the school. I slowly turn, eyes closed, hopeful but disbelieving towards the front entrance. I slowly unclench my eyes and stare at the five girls standing in the entry.

The girl in the middle had hair flaming like an inferno, wildly trailing all the way down to her hips. Combat boots were folded over to reveal a red and black plaid inside. Her pale toned dancer legs were showing beneath a pair of high waisted torn black shorts. A loose off the shoulder shirt that faded from black to red was tucked uncaringly in the shorts. Dozens of black leather bracelets adorned her right wrist. A clear white crystal lied at the base of her neck. Her nose was bejeweled with a large diamond stud on the left side. Serrated front bangs almost veiled her empty eyeliner-bordered deep pink eyes that raked across the student body.

On the redhead's right was a girl with hair as pitch black as death and with layers littering her shoulder length hair. Her own combat boots were knee height, lacing up the front. Black skinny jeans splattered with white were tucked into the boots. An emerald green loose long sleeve crop top adorned her torso. A black vine covered in thorns design wrapped itself around the top. Her tanned stomach contrasted immensely to the redhead's pale shoulders. A black metal bar was pierced through her eyebrow, having two sharp arrow-like projections on each end of the bar. A vicious snarl was plastered on the raventte's plump lips. Jagged bangs fell in front of one black liner outlined abhorrence-filled emerald green eye.

On the redhead's left was a blonde. Her hair was platinum, bordering white and had royal blue streaks throughout. Her hair was down, pin straight and falling to her rib cage. Long chin-length bangs framed either side of her face. Black four inch pumps allowed dark blue painted toe nails to peep out. Tanned legs stretched upward to be covered by a black mid-thigh length flowing skirt. A tight, long sleeved royal blue shoulder-less shirt hugged her curves. A silver lightning bolt necklace hung just about collarbone level. An expressionless lip-pierced mouth stayed sedentary. Cerulean eyes looked out across the hallway dispassionately.

On the raventte's right was a girl with lustrous silver hair parted in the middle. Her hair fell like a wavy waterfall to her waist. Dangerously high heeled black ankle boots were worn on her feet. Pale legs sprouted from the heeled boots. A tight glimmering silver bodycon dress glided over her curves to stop mid-thigh. The neckline plunged riskily low. A sterling silver music note necklace was tightened around her neck. Her Monroe piercing twitched up as the silverette's mouth lifted into a seductive smirk. Her piercing silver eyes were surrounded by smoky eye shadow.

My eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights. The last girl, the one to the left of the blonde, had dark brunette hair in a high ponytail. Purple streaks shot through the hair. The shining ponytail fell to her elbows. Purple and black high top DC skate shoes were lazily untied. Ripped stonewashed skinny jeans shielded her long shapely legs. A tight purple V-neck rolled over her curves deliciously, and you could see just a hint of creamy cleavage at the neckline. She looked behind her, twisting her torso, giving me a chance to see black wings on the back of the shirt. She yawned, obviously bored, and a glint of metal on her tongue gleamed. When my eyes finally reached hers, after my analysis, I audibly gasped. Because there, staring back at me impassively and hollowly, surrounded by black liner, were two deep purple eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: All of the characters except for Burlesque, Bandit, and Bullet belong to Craig McCracken.**

**No One's POV:**

"What the fuck are you all looking at?" The petrifying green-eyed teenager snarled, causing the student body to jump when her low dangerous voice cut through the silence.

The students quickly, while quivering in absolute terror under her malicious glare, darted to their next class, fearing the idea of being caught in the ravenette's murderous scowl again.

The emotionless pink gaze of the redhead suddenly snapped towards the group of five seniors, who hadn't moved so much to blink since the arrival of the girls. Cold pink eyes met startled and disbelieving red eyes. No emotion entered the pink eyes. Not a spark of recognition or a pang of hurt.

"Blossom." Brick breathed, incredulity colored his voice. The pink eyes hardened and narrowed, albeit only slightly.

"Brick." Her voice resounded off of the school walls, a mixture of silk and stone, seemingly gliding over one's ears then roughly encompassing the body, resulting in frigid, stinging icicles penetrating the spine. Brick did not respond, only smirked, and Blossom did not try to audibly resume the exchange. However, they never ceased staring at each other, while Blossom's face stayed unaffected and controlled; Brick's displayed a variety of expressions, ranging from flabbergasted shock and heart wrenching sorrow.

The other four sisters remained silent, though a low rumbling growl could be heard escaping the green-eyed teenager's lips. The growl sounded animalistic, a concoction of a lion, a wolverine, and an alligator. To say the very least, it turned on Butch immensely.

It was taking all of Butch's trivial supply of willpower to refrain from tackling Buttercup and taking her then and there. The growl made a satisfying warmth seep throughout his body, making his mind melt into a whirling mess. His miserable supply of willpower, however, did not halt his use of his X-ray vision.

Blossom's piercing gaze suddenly landed on Butch and a paralyzing agony encompassed his body, causing his knees to buckle and his muscles to clench. His eyes clamped shut and his whole body was wracked with spasms. The torturing pain slowly ebbed away, leaving the green Ruff panting on his hands and knees, flinching every couple seconds as a wave of pain washed over him.

"_Never again, Butch."_ A detached voice echoed in his head. Butch forced his head to face the pink-eyed Puff. Her gaze penetrated his soul. Bandit and Boomer ran to him to help him up, yet Butch's terrified stare stayed glued to the redhead.

**Brick's POV:**

I still stood mouth agape staring at the fiery goddess before me. My eyes raked up and down her curvaceous form, memorizing the lines of her hips as they rounded up and plunged inward at her tiny waist. My eyes traveled upwards still, almost bulging out of their sockets when they landed on her breasts.

_'Mother of God'_ I thought to myself as I stared, unblinkingly, at the huge globes possessed by the Puff. They had to at least be a D, probably a double D, seeing how even with the loose fitting shirt, they still popped out a good five inches. My eyes weren't the only thing that was bulging.

"Blossom." I breathed out, sounding like I just ran a marathon.

"Brick." Her voice sent shivers throughout my body, the coldness of it battled with the warmth that spread down my limbs.

Those fuchsia eyes stayed glued to me, unabashedly rolling up and down my figure. The pink Puff didn't even try to obscure the fact she was checking me out. I willed a smirk to etch into my lips, even though I wanted to gaze wide-eyed at the beauty.

_"You know, I'm a little disappointed." _The husky voice resounded in my mind. I visibly flinched, shocked, when I met those eyes again. They bore into my own, seemingly drawing out every secret I retained. I was completely baffled and a bit disappointed, for both what she said and what she is doing.

I was baffled at the thought that she was disappointed in my looks, I mean; I'm one of the hottest guys in the whole school, beside my brothers. I was hurt. It physically stung to know I didn't catch her eye. The one girl, whose affection and adoration I wanted, no, craved, didn't have any to give.

I was disappointed because I had planned on using my telepathy to dive into her mind, however, that plan was shot down as soon as her voice entered my mind off of its own accord. I was now strategizing, thinking of ways to find out how she felt. Reading her facial expressions was entirely out of the picture. No hint of anger or depression leaked passed her hardened pink eyes. Her mouth didn't twitch into an amused smirk or a disappointed frown. Her eyebrows didn't crease to show confusion nor rise to show surprise. Her nose didn't flare to show ferocity or lift up to show disgust. Her face remained a stone mask, inanimate and cold. I wanted so badly to find what she was thinking, but a wall was around her thoughts, that only she could obliterate.

_"Don't try to find what I'm thinking, Brick, and don't be so crestfallen about my lack of adulation." _My jaw dropped like a fly attached to a 50 pound weight. I wasn't confounded at the fact that she can read my mind; I was confounded at the fact that she did so without leaving any evidence of trespassing. My thoughts were divulged and exploited without as much as a tap on my mental barrier. One thought kept repeating through my mind.

_'She got stronger.' _

Her eyes suddenly snapped to Butch and he fell to the ground, writhing in agony. My eyes returned back to Blossom, shocked. It seems I've been absolutely dumbfounded continuously since these girls walked in that front entrance. She was hurting him mentally. She was tricking his brain into thinking his entire body was enclosed by flames, blistering and scorching his skin and muscle. I didn't even have that power.

Butch slowly unclenched his eyes and muscles, panting heavily and twitching at irregular intervals for the next minute. Buttercup's mouth was twisted into a sadistic smile, but her eyes were empty.

**Bullet's POV:**

"Well, as much fun as this reunion has been, I think it's about time my sisters and I get our schedules and make our debut, don't you agree, girls?" Blossom rhetorically questioned. Her words didn't match her tone. Her words requested an amused and sarcastic quality, yet remained sharp and icy.

Only two of the girls responded with facial expressions; Buttercup and Burlesque. Buttercup scowled at the mention of schedules, obviously pissed about having to attend school, she was Butch's counterpart still, no matter how much her personality changed.

Burlesque, however, smirked seductively. It was the kind of smirk that spelled trouble for whomever she was going to make her next victim. I would know; I have the same one. Yet, the thought of her having a victim did something to me. A hot, piercing knife twisted in my heart and a small but audible gasp escaped my lips. She was going to flirt, and judging by that spark in her eye, she was going to flirt hard.

Each girl walked passed by my brothers and me. Blossom unemotionally, Buttercup scowling, Bubbles looking down at the ground, Bunny looking bored, and Burlesque winked at me. My heart started pounding in my chest and my breathing was frantic. She _winked _at _me._

After each girl had disappeared into the front office, my brothers and I just stood still. Even after the late bell shrilled throughout the halls, we still stayed frozen.

"What the fuck just happened?" Leave it to Butch to break the silence.

"They came back…" Boomer said quietly. His voice was a whisper with hope just on the edge of overflowing. His eyes were filled with so much smothered happiness that he didn't want to let out.

"Yeah, but not for us." Brick's statement made all of us halt, he was right. We don't know why they came back, but judging on how they spoke to us, we weren't the reason. We all forced our feet to move and start heading towards the A wing for gym. Since we were now seniors, we were taking bullshit classes, except Brick since he became a complete nerd after Blossom disappeared.

When we were almost to the door, we heard an ear-splitting screech of viciousness. My brothers and I looked at each other and our eyes enlarged.

"Princess." We gasped simultaneously.

**No One's POV:**

Black beady eyes glared dangerously at the five girls who had just entered the gym. A shriek escaped red lipstick covered lips at eardrum shattering decibels. Drawn on eyebrows attempted to express anger but couldn't due to the heavy amount of Botox. Frizzy dyed-blonde hair bounced with every angry stomp of the fuming girl's foot.

The five girls just stared back, uninterested and unperturbed. The frizzy haired drag queen known as Princess stomped forward, while her posse of fellow Barbies hung back. Blossom sighed in exasperation before stepping forward as the rival leader.

"What the fuck are you bitches doing back here? I thought I drove you sluts out of town." Princess snarled at the pink Puff.

"Don't flatter yourself _Princess._" Blossom spit out Princess's name like a curse. Princess took a step back in astonishment at the fiery haired girl's arctic tenor. Princess had never heard a voice devoid of so much emotion, unfeeling and unaffected by Princess's stature in the school. Anger coursed through the makeup-caked girl's body.

"You BITCH! You should have stayed in whatever dog house you came from!" Princess screeched

"It's 'From which you came' you uneducated bimbo, and I'd rather stay here with all of my old friends." Blossom said, allowing a merciless smile to invade her facial features. Princess froze in absolute terror at the smile that crossed the pink Puff's perfect lips. It promised pain and retribution.

However, with the audience on full alert, Princess couldn't lose her pride because of some reinvented former geek, so she lunged. Right before her toes could even leave the ground, Princess's muscled clenched, her knees buckled, her eyes clamped shut, and an agony so piercing washed over her that no sound could escape her usually unfiltered and relentlessly functioning vocal chords.

The cruel torture raged on much longer than Butch's torture. After several minutes of unforgiving pain, it ceased entirely. Princess's click quickly ran to her and assisted her in getting to her feet.

"You cunt!" Princess forced out, panting.

"You cunt!" Princess's own voice reached her ears. She averted her gaze to a familiar head of silver hair.

"_Excuse me_, Bitch?" Princess snapped incredulously, not believing this modelesque teenager in front of her was her old victim.

"_Excuse me_, Bitch?" The same exact voice, pitch for pitch and tone for tone reverberated back to Princess. Burlesque was hardly trying to hide her victorious smirk. By this time, the five senior boys had entered the gym and were watching with bated breath.

"It's on, _Birdy_." Princess hissed. Burlesque's smirk immediately dropped, replaced by a ferocious sneer, her silver eyes burning. In a flash, fingers had woven themselves around the frizzy haired girl's neck, piercing claws extended from the five fingers circled around the neck. An animalistic snarl erupted from the owner of the clawed hand. However, when following the arm up to the face, instead of silver eyes, blazing emerald eyes punctured Princess's small black ones. Plump lips were raised in a wild snarl, unveiling pointed canines. The five fingers circling the throat tightened with agonizing slowness, penetrating the skin beneath the nails.

Manicured hands went up to attempt to pry the one hand off of the throat, but it was like a moth trying to release itself from an alligator's maws. The painted nails tried desperately to claw the impenetrable hand, but the weak human nails merely slid right off as a piece of paper slides off steel.

"I think she gets the point, Buttercup." The frigid voice of Blossom cut through the silence. "No need to commit murder on our first day of school like last year, right?" Blossom reminded, eliciting a strangled gasp from the bystanders.

After a couple seconds, the grip around Princess's neck lessened, and then disappeared completely. Bruising, already yellow and a deep purple, was left on Princess's neck. Coughing immediately, said girl dropped to her knees, trying to get as much air back into her deprived lungs as possible.

With one last murderous glare, Buttercup retreated back to her unfazed sisters. The five sisters stared at the bane of their 13 year old existence with almost humored expressions, seeing as she hadn't changed; only she was introduced to the world of makeup and hair dye, unfortunately for her.

"You bitches will regret the day you crossed me." Princess hissed dramatically. The sisters returned their gaze to the spoiled brat. Blossom walked excruciatingly slow towards Princess, like a feral predator stalking its prey.

"No, Princess, you'll regret the day you decided to make fools out of my sisters and me. I wish you luck with this next year. You'll need it." And with that, the five sisters walked towards the bleachers of the gym and sat down and conversed like that whole fiasco didn't happen.

The Ruffs followed their movements with dropped jaws, each thinking something about their counterpart, all significantly different, but shockingly the same.

'_Why is Bubbles so quiet? She didn't say anything during that whole exchange. What happened?' _ Boomer thought to himself, perplexed.

_'Bunny looked utterly bored throughout that argument, like it has happened millions of times before. She didn't even bat an eye when Buttercup almost strangled Princess! What the hell? She doesn't care in the slightest! What happened to her?' _Bandit thought incredulously, staring wide-eyed at the purple-clad girl.

_'Burlesque has vocal replication? So her powers must all be voice related, like how mine are sound related. Shit, that's a useful talent. But, when did she get so utterly sexy? I mean she was sweet and beautiful in 8__th__ grade, like an adorable teddy bear, always getting shy around people. Now she is a fierce and striking feline! She's just radiating confidence! How did this happen? What else changed? _Bullet questioned to himself, entranced by the silver gem smirking to herself on the bleachers.

_'Fuck! Does that girl have any idea how fucking sexy she is? That growl is the hottest thing that's ever reached my ears! Those claws! Those teeth! I can just imagine her scratching my back and biting my neck. Damn, this is going to be an interesting year. But, what happened to the frail 13 year old that couldn't stand up for her sisters? Where did she go?' _Butch drooled at the former thought, and then an intense focused look crossed his face at the latter question. He would find out.

_'She's like an ice sculpture. Perfectly shaped, graceful in design, but an icy aura is projected from the form. Eyes are frozen and hard, and those perfect lips are set in a calm and empty expression. She's no longer 'Everything Nice', she's Everything Ice. She doesn't feel anything except cruel humor from torturing Princess. But, Damn! That was the fieriest argument I've ever witnessed. She was collected but vicious. I never thought Blossom could be like that, but shit, I'm damn glad she is. What was that about committing another murder? They were superheroes, everything they worked for couldn't have just dissipated. Maybe the sweet and shy superhero was annihilated from years of torment, but, could she still be in there, deep down and frozen in chains of betrayal and anguish?' _


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: All of the characters except for Burlesque, Bandit, and Bullet belong to Craig McCracken.**

Author's note:

Hi guys! Sorry it's been a while since I updated last, I went on college visits, went to see my sister, and I got a new job. So now it shouldn't be too long in between updates. Enjoy chapter five!

**Butch's POV:**

_Holy shit. Holy motherfucking shit. Holy motherfucking god damn shit. I need her. Good lord she is the wildest chick I've ever met. When did she get so animalistic? When did she get retractable nails and teeth? Shit I need to calm down. _

Buttercup hasn't left my thoughts since I saw her. My thoughts keep switching between her new powers, her animalistic growl that sends shivers down my spine, her fierce emerald eyes, her raven hair that swishes with every movement she makes, her face, and her figure.

Her powers seem to stem from nature. Piercing claws extend from her fingers and wolf-like canines erupt when she is getting ready to fight or is pissed off, meaning she hasn't completely mastered control. I'm not surprised; she is my counterpart after all. We both have short fuses, even though hers was absent for a while in 8th grade. Plus, her plant powers I saw five years ago are probably still present. I can't imagine how much power she has now. Her incredible eruption of grief illustrated how much power she actually has. Those vines were as thick as trucks!

I guess that snarl she vocalizes is a branch of her newfound nature connection. She must actually be part animal. Why does that turn me on so much? I need help. I wonder if she has any other powers. I've only gotten two new ones; X-ray vision and terrakinesis. Could she have gotten more?

Her eyes used to be downturned frequently all of 8th grade. She wouldn't look anyone in the eye, always avoiding their gaze like a frightened rabbit. Now, she glares defiantly into anyone's soul, burning their willpower away with the hells fire that resides within her molten emerald irises. Her eyes show so much rage and animosity, but they also show agony. Buttercup is so full of vengeance for what everyone did, she's been bound by her fury for over five years. She can't escape it; the only way to mitigate it is to hurt the ones she feels are responsible. Even after her display to Princess, I don't think that is the full extent of anger she is hiding. Her eyes are so full of emotion; I'm worried how much control she has left.

I've never seen a black so dark, so full of impending destruction, not even my own raven hair could compete. I saw the first time her hair changed. It was when she exploded with rage and anguish all those years ago. Her hair darkened until it could darken no more. Buttercup's hair, as cliché as it sounds, reflects her main outlook. She is so broken, so full of retribution, her hair has darkened like her heart. She let it grow to her shoulders since 8th grade. The jagged layers sway with every movement the ravenette makes, surrounding her like an aura from hell. The serrated bangs falling over one of her eyes portray a mystery only her past can solve.

The once thin lips she owned had blossomed into a plump red that I can imagine biting. I can just see her lengthened canines raking over her juicy lips as her lust-filled green irises permeate my own. Her skin is flawless, seemingly a work of art. Unlike three of her sisters, her skin was tanned like a golden halo, radiating heat. Her baby fat is nonexistent, allowing her face to slim down to unveil perfect cheekbones and a heart shaped face. Her nose, like the rest of her, was perfect; a small pixie-like nose that fit her face like a puzzle piece. Her eyes sported black eyeliner on the top and bottom lids, extenuating her mysterious persona. Her eyelashes held no makeup, needing none for they were long, full, and pitch black. She was without a doubt faultless.

Then there was her body; a body that makes every other girl, besides her sisters, look like a board. Her legs were toned and looked a mile long, no doubt from sports. From my transient use of X-ray vision, having to be cut short by Blossom, I could see her legs were shapely and smooth. However, I caught a glimpse of claw marks littering her thighs. I'll have to dig up the story behind those. Anyway, as her legs reach skyward, they roll over into mouthwatering hips that then roll inwards again to outline a thin waist. The crop top allows me to see her toned and flat stomach, making my eyes pop every time they come into contact with it. When the green and black material makes its presence know, sheltering anymore skin from my view, I can't say I'm disappointed. Far from disappointment is my reaction when I see the mounds visible through the cropped piece of clothing. You would think I was a guy for huge breasts, but that's where people are wrong. I want them to fit in my hand, and Buttercup's look like the key for my interlocked hands. The more I think about her figure the more my self-control is slipping.

As my eyes are just reaching Buttercup's collar bone, I notice a fleck of green escaping the shelter of her shirt. My enhanced vision makes out a leaf shape where her neck meets her shoulder. _Shit_. She has a _tattoo_.

A growl reaches my Chemical X enhances ears and I divert my gaze to a penetrating green eye. Buttercup ever so slightly shakes her head, indicating my scrutiny privileges are exhausted. I stare into her eyes, refusing to look away from her piss-inducing glare. Her eyes narrow further, as her pupils become slits, reflecting a cat's predatory gaze. Well, I guess her nails and teeth aren't the only things that become animal-like.

Rather than smirking like I do at any other girl I catch staring at me, my face remains stoic and stern, unable to move any muscle of my body. The ravenette's paralyzing gaze lightens, albeit only minimally, letting the smallest portion of confusion to escape her rage-infused wall.

**No One's POV:**

"Okay class, circle up!" Mr. Mallory's shout resounded throughout the gymnasium. Alexander Mallory was a mustached man in his mid-40s. He was rather well built, no one you'd want to make angry. His peppered mustache was the only other hair he sported besides his bushy eyebrows. His bald head reflected the bright lights present in the gymnasium.

Mallory treats his students with respect if they return it. He believes in quality over quantity, refusing to make his students repeat agonizing workouts over and over, as long as they do them well. He emits a fatherly aura and genuinely cares about his students.

The class responded almost immediately. The students were already changed into the uniform; black athletic shorts and a gray t-shirt with the school mascot, a Tiger, in red. The students created a circle around the coach. The class was on the larger side, containing around 40 students, wanting Mr. Mallory's class because of how much they enjoyed it when it was required freshman year.

"Okay class, it's your senior year and I don't feel the need to kill you with fitness testing, seeing as you all did that freshma- oh? New faces?" Mr. Mallory stopped his speech when his gaze landed on the five super-humans.

"Care to tell me your names, girls? I know all the other students by first and last name; I at least want to remember your first names. Hmm, you must be sisters. Great! That'll make remembering last names five times easier!" The teacher turned his gaze to Bunny. "Can you start, missy?"

Bunny lifted her bored gaze to look at Mr. Mallory. The mid-aged gym teacher's eyes widened the smallest bit at the utterly uninterested expression of the purple-eyed teenager.

With a sigh, the apathetic senior allowed her voice to be heard by her peers. She pointed to herself and said "Bunny." Her voice was monotone, but was smooth and creamy like melted butter. No hint of a raspy throat or uncertainty was laced through the one word.

Mr. Mallory nodded in response, not questioning the different name, seeing as five of his best students had odd names as well. His gaze switched to the modelesque figure admiring her nails. The teacher refrained from sighing, absorbing the attitude of the _seemingly_ girly teenager. "And you, missy?"

The silver haired senior raised her eyebrow at the nickname. Her lips twitched into a smirk as she tossed her glossy locks over her shoulder. With a hand on her popped hip she said "Burlesque." The sultry voice caressed every males' body in the gymnasium, besides the teacher, seeing as he was happily married. Lovesick sighs and the few bold wolf whistles echoed in the room. Burlesque's half lidded stare raked over the males in the classroom, and seeing that the males greatly outnumbered the girls, winked into a group of drooling guys.

'_She's going to be a handful.'_ Mr. Mallory shook his head and turned his questioning glance to the raven-haired teenager who had her arms crossed in an intimidating manor and a scowl on her face. Mr. Mallory refrained from calling her missy, looking rather hesitant before he addressed the ravenette. "You?" his voice, though undetectable to the human ear, was a pitch higher than normal.

"Buttercup." The emerald eyed senior said, her voice lacking the animalistic undertone, shocking the group of male super-humans watching every movement of the five girls. Her voice was still husky and dangerous, but it had a hint of a purr laced through the ragged word. Her eyes, normally holding fury, held amusement, signaling she heard the pitch increase in her teacher's voice.

The mustached teacher nodded, a bit shakily, at the terrifying student, and averted his gaze to the platinum blonde staring at the floor behind the ravenette. "You, dear?" Mr. Mallory asked quietly, mistaking her position behind her threatening sister as fear.

The blonde didn't move nor did she look up; she didn't even twitch when she was addressed. The cerulean eyed teenager was like a statue. The teacher's eyebrow rose in confusion. Then he recoiled and took a step back when a cold and low voice shattered the silence.

"Her name is Bubbles." Mr. Mallory whipped his wide-eyed gaze around to land on a severe pink one. The burly gym teacher's startled gape was trapped in the empty one of the last sister. The teacher's body was paralyzed. The mixture of the frigid voice and soul-piercing stare left him so utterly shocked, he couldn't move.

"And I'm Blossom. It's a pleasure."

The class was dumbstruck. Never, in their last three years of high school had they seen their beloved gym teacher speechless. Each student took multiple steps away from the redhead, besides her sisters and the five color coded seniors.

Mr. Mallory flinched when the icy voice suddenly reverberated through his head.

"_Alexander Mallory, I would refrain from addressing Bubbles if I were you, she only speaks to my sisters and me. To allow a cessation to your confusion and shock, allow me to explain my sisters and my situation. We were formerly the Powerpuff Girls, however, no longer. We will not cause trouble in your class, as long as you do not pair us with Princess and her friends. THAT will cause trouble. My sister Bubbles will not talk; do not attempt to get her to. Buttercup is competitive, I advise you to have a nurse here during our class. Burlesque is not how you perceive her; it is how she acts in public, nothing more. Bunny will be bored; you can't change that. Lastly, do NOT speak to us as children. You'll regret that."_

The flabbergasted teacher nodded, regaining movement and smiled slightly at the five girls. He was used to telepathy because Brick spoke the same way when he had the five strange super-humans freshman year.

"_Oh, and before the end of the semester, I instruct you to tell the class of your impending surgery, they're getting curious over your lack of hair. They'll be even more questioning when you lose your mustache."_

The gym teacher's eyes flashed with pain, then became serious. Mr. Mallory nodded his head solemnly, realizing the telepathic redhead was right. The gym teacher raked his gaze across the five girls, smiling to himself softly.

'_Something happened to these girls. Something changed their hearts. I don't know how this year will play out, but I'm sure it's going to be one hell of a year.'_

**This is a really bad chapter; I have it in here as more of a filler. However, Mr. Mallory is going to be playing a role in the story. I'll try to have the next chapter up this weekend!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: All of the characters except for Burlesque, Bandit, and Bullet belong to Craig McCracken.**

**Brick's POV:**

Mr. Mallory didn't even make the girls do the fitness testing. I don't really blame him; they would've gotten the highest scores in less than 20 seconds. I do want to know how much stronger they have gotten in the past five years. Have they just been grieving for their loss or pushing themselves to the limit? I don't know about the rest of the sisters, but Blossom has been training. Her telepathy is so controlled, so precise; _I _couldn't even detect her presence in my head.

If Blossom has three new powers; ice control, telepathy, and psionic blast, (hurting people through telepathy) then her sisters must too. Buttercup has Agrokinesis and her animalistic qualities like the nails, teeth, and eyes. She must have one more. The other sisters, I only know the powers they presented five years ago. Bubbles has weather control, Bunny has air control, and Burlesque has something to do with singing. I can't figure out the rest of the powers because Blossom put a fortress around her sisters' minds as well as her own.

I _hate_ not knowing things. I _need_ to know what the hell happened. I'm almost positive this personality transformation stems from the death of the Professor, and maybe the torment the received in middle school. But, would they really give up being heroines because of their grief? Something else must have happened.

'_Hey guys, who else wants to know what happened to the girls in the last five years? _I send a telepathic message to my brothers, seeing as we were on our way to our next classes, which are all different.

'_Why the sudden curiosity bro? If this is an excuse to get closer to them, I'm in. because let me tell you, I plan on getting _very _close to Butterbuns.' _Butch's inquiry has me agitated.

'_Because dipshit, I hate not knowing this shit! This is the biggest problem and I plan on solving it.'_

'_Calm down Scooby Doo, I know that's not the reason. You want to get closer to Ice Queen.' _Bandit said his voice full of sarcasm.

'_Shut the fuck up, just get close to them. We'll collaborate at home.' _I grumbled to myself after I severed the link. Although, Bandit might be a small, teeny tiny bit right. Blossom interests me. Her cold exterior is magnetic. She, pardon the pun, blossomed into a fiery, modelesque feline.

As I was walking into AP Chemistry, I caught Bullet's eye as he walked past the door to my class. He pointed to his head. I nodded in response. I walked into my class and created a link to Bullet's mind.

'_Brick, I know you're lying. You know nothing can get past me.'_

I sighed. _'I know, Bullet. She looked to me for help that day, I turned away. I saw her protect her sister and she was punished for it. I could have prevented this! She could be the happy, smart, gentle heroine that we all knew if I fucking helped.'_

'_Brick! We all turned aside. We all let Princess push them to their breaking point. We're all at fault here. Boomer watched as Bubbles got punched in the mouth to 'shut her up'. Butch watched as Buttercup was clawed and called weak. Bandit watched as Bunny was punched in the jaw so she couldn't smile. I watched as Princess clawed Burlesque on her throat and said she sounded like a 'fucked up bird.' Now look at them. Did you see Burlesque? She's no longer the shy and stuttering little girl she used to be. She's a full blown flirt, and I get to watch her seduce other guys that _aren't me._ How do you think I feel? At least you don't have to worry about Blossom getting close to anyone. I have to watch from the sidelines as other guys get to hold her hand, or brush her hair back. __**I don't get that privilege**__.'_

'_I'm sorry. I know, we all went through the same thing. We'll get them. I know how Blossom felt in middle school, how all of them felt. Blossom hadn't gotten her telepathy until after her disappearance. She couldn't tell when her mind was being read. They__** loved**__ us Bullet, and I plan on getting those feelings to come back.'_

'_Alright, Brick. We'll find out what happened. It will take time, probably a lot longer for Blossom. It seems she just can't trust anyone. Good luck.' _I severed the connection just as Mrs. Beck walked into the room. She walked up to the front of the room.

"Well, I have all familiar faces!" Mrs. Beck teaches freshman chemistry and sophomore biology along with AP Chemistry, both are required classes. Her hazel eyes showed excitement, seeing as she was only in her early 30s. Her chocolate brown hair was in a tight bun, giving the illusion of a strict teacher, if she didn't have such a huge smile on her face.

"Oh! Except one! What is your name with the beautiful pink eyes?" Wait, pink eyes? I turned around so fast I must have gotten whiplash. My eyes landed on the star of my thoughts for the last few hours. She was sitting with her arms crossed on the table, leaning forward. Her hair was draped on the table, looking like a waterfall of fire. From my view point I had a perfect sight of the large diamond stud ornamenting her nose. Her eyes were narrowed slightly, analyzing the teacher. Blossom was sitting two rows behind me to the right, so I had a clear view of her when I turned around. She was all the way in the back, next to the window.

Blossom waited another second before responding in her icy voice "Blossom." Mrs. Beck didn't show any surprise, however I did see pity in her eyes, I was afraid Blossom saw the pity too, but, when I looked up at Blossom's eyes again, they were fixated on some object out the window. I leaned back a little to get a clear view out the window, my curiosity getting the better of me. All I saw was the gray sky, some green trees, and a blue butterfly.

"That is a beautiful name, darling. Do you have any siblings I might have in other classes?" I studied the Chemistry teacher carefully, was she trying to start a conversation with Blossom? I noticed how she said siblings, and not family. She might remember the newspapers that came out a few days after the death of the Professor. She might be one of the few people that remember.

"… I have four other sisters; however, none of them will be taking academic AP classes." Blossom said after a moment's hesitation. Okay, so Blossom is like me, the only sibling who takes more challenging classes. That's one more thing to add to my knowledge on Blossom. Jesus, I sound like a freaking researcher; or stalker. I'll go with researcher.

"Okay, because it's the first day of your senior year, I'm just going to pass out the syllabuses and the units we'll tackle this year, and then I'll give you the rest of class to do whatever you want. First person in each row if you could pass the papers back that would be perfect."

I look down at the units we'll be studying. Nomenclature, thermodynamics, electrochemistry, eh I've already studied these. Other than hanging out with my brothers over the summer, I got extra studying done so I could slack off a little during the school year. Thank the lord, because now I can dedicate more of my time towards Blossom. Wait, shit, I hope she isn't using telepathy right now. Mind shield? Check. I can either spread out my telepathy to all my brothers, but then it's not as powerful. Or I could just shield my own mind, which'll, hopefully, keep me completely safe from Blossom's prying.

I hear giggling to my left. I turn and just see Owen Thomas hitting on some blonde chick with green eyes. Owen is a complete tool, using girls and dumping them. Butch and Bullet may seem like that, but they don't pretend to like girls just to get them in bed. I think they've only had sex one or two times, like the rest of us.

Owen makes a move to put his hand on the girl's knee with a predatory glint in his eye, but then the room gets suddenly icier, dropping around 30 degrees. I see Owen's hand stop mid reach and twitch unperceivably to the human eye. Owen stands up straight, having been leaning towards the clueless girl moments before, and walks back to his seat. I narrow my eyes at this and turn to Blossom. Her eyes are slightly glowing and focused on Own.

As soon as Owen's ass is in his seat he shakes his head looking confused. I return my glance to Blossom and notice her usually empty eyes are in flames of rage. The rest of her face is stoic and passive like usual, but her eyes show so much fury I wonder how much control she has to not be shaking or tensing at least her fists.

I would have never pegged Blossom as one to interfere with such trivial matters as a guy trying to trick a girl. Seems odd she took action. I realize I'm still staring at the redheaded beauty when she quickly glances at me. Slowly, the flames in her eyes dim and her eyes return to apathy. Yet, I see a tiny hint of desperation leak through her resolve.

**Boomer's POV:**

After Brick cuts the link, I walk into AP Studio Art. The tables are splashed with colors that come together to make beautiful masterpieces. Only students that get fives on the AP Studio Art exam are allowed to paint the work tables. Each table is surrounded by eight chairs.

I make my way over to a table in the far back corner near the exit door. The table sports an intricate design of vines that twist and knot together to make an overall painting of a skull. Multiple morning glories are attached to the vines. The skull has two roses for eyes and a butterfly with cracked wings has taken refuse in the mouth off to the left side. I've been sitting at this table for three years and I still find inspiration from the advanced painting.

The room is filling up at an alarming rate. Townsville is known for the variety of art students that graduate. The talking turns into a constant buzzing sound as I take this time to look out the open window. Although it's colder than normal and the clouds are still gray, the green of the leaves is still striking. I see a cerulean butterfly flutter by the window and land of the windowsill. I revert my eyes back to my table and the last empty seat is directly across from me.

As the flood of students begins to dwindle, the teacher walks in right after the last group. Mrs. Darcy is an elderly lady whose fashion sense is less that horrible, and I'm a guy. Today she is donning a teal cotton turtleneck with a plum vest over it. Teal corduroy pants tuck into black Uggs. Her wild orange hair is in a perm. The wrinkles around her gray eyes fold even more as her lips are tugged into a small smile.

I turn my body around so I'm facing the front of the room, since my chair is facing the outside window. Mrs. Darcy takes her place at the front of the classroom like a proud soldier receiving the Medal of Honor.

"Good morning, every one! Oh my! Aren't you just the cutest thing! Why don't you introduce yourself to the class young girl!" I trace Mrs. Darcy's focus to something just behind me. I untwist my torso to face the previously empty chair that way across from me. However, now there was a figure sitting like a statue in it. How the hell? The body is radiating a deep blue aura. I've only seen a deep blue aura one other time. It is an air of such deep depression it's really difficult to find anywhere.

I trace the body up to the face and have to withhold a gasp as I see Bubbles staring at the table. This is the first time I've seen her up close. Good lord, she's beautiful. The royal blue highlights in her almost white hair make her eyes even more entrancing. Her plump lips are pink, contrasting with the black and blue lip ring. Her curves are like rolling knolls; defined. Her heart shaped face is framed by platinum blonde bangs. I realize she doesn't even acknowledge my existence. I feel a searing pain in my chest. Worse than the time Bubbles shot me with super charged heat vision seven years ago.

She obviously heard Mrs. Darcy, I mean with our enhanced hearing and all, but she doesn't react. The blonde just continues to stare at the painting on the table.

Mrs. Darcy's eyes dart from side to side, confused on what to do. She opens her mouth, like she is going to ask again, but then thinks better of it and shuts it. I decide to break the palpable tension in the room.

"Her name is Bubbles." I respond; my voice sounding breathless. Mrs. Darcy let out a sigh of relief, now that the gauche strain was gone.

"Well, it's certainly a… pleasure to have you in our class, Bubbles… Alright, let's get to it. Today we're utilizing the blending effect of watercolors to express emotion. For example, reds and blacks can be used to symbolize anger. Blues can be used to express sadness. Boomer, could you show Bubbles where all the supplies are? Great! Get started! You have the rest of class to work on your paintings as well as the next two days. Good luck!"

I raise my head to look at Bubbles. She hasn't moved, still staring at the table with a faraway look in her cerulean eyes. I sigh; this is going to be harder than I thought. I take a deep breath and force my eyes to refrain from having a longing spark as I talk to her.

"Paint brushes are in a bowl by the sink. The water colors are in the second to far cabinet above those clay sculptures. Paper is in that drawer underneath the pottery." After I finish I get up, not expecting any recognition. Was I surprised when my peripheral vision caught the dark blue aura lighten the tiniest bit. I turn around and see Bubbles staring at me. Her eyes are still empty, but have the faintest bit of approval. She nods at me and proceeds to stand up and get her supplies. I have to force myself not to stare too long at her retreating figure.

After retrieving the desired colors I want and three different sized paintbrushes, I start on my painting. I take a pink and orange and mix them to create a stunning sunset. I put layer upon layer to add the detail of how expansive the sky is. I create grass on top of a hill that overlooks a small lake. Just as I'm about to add the reflection of the sunset on the lake my attention is caught by a shout.

"Would you just shut up!? I can't fucking deal with your annoying ass voice right now. Jesus Marianna, just shut your mouth!" Jason Powell was glaring daggers at his girlfriend, Marianna Vasello, whose head was hanging in defeat. I was about to say something when a fierce wind shot through the open window. Paintings were caught up in the ferocious gust as well as students. The paintings were swirling around the room as well as chairs and pieces of pottery. Everyone was trying to grab their painting or duck in cover, while I had just held onto my painting the moment the wind burst through. I was shocked, though relieved, when Jason, rather than trying to get his painting, took Marianna and protected her.

As soon as Jason had Marianna against his chest with his arm protecting her head, the wind ceased. Not calm down slowly to a breeze but just stopped altogether. My eyes widened in realization as I whipped around to face Bubbles. Just as I turned around her eyes were just fading back to her normal cerulean from a previously glowing royal blue. One thought invaded my mind for the rest of class: _Why?_

**Butch's POV:**

I laughed out loud after Brick severed the connection. He totally wants her. I can't blame him at all, though. Those Puffs have gotten sexier than I could have ever imagined. Yeah they were adorable in 8th grade, but now they're fucking hot. Well, their bodies and faces are, their personalities are the complete opposite; cold. However, Burlesque actually acts flirtatiously, and Buttercup is feisty. So very feisty, it's a complete turn-on.

I walk to my Strength Training class thinking about a certain ravenette the whole way. I enter the changing rooms to put on black track shorts and a dark green muscle shirt. I tie my black Air Jordans and walk out to the weight room. Only a couple people are out of the locker rooms so I go to the bench press and put on 400 pounds. First day of school I need to show who is boss. I start pumping and do two sets of thirty reps. I have a light sheen of sweat on my forehead. I sit up, taking a break before I go back to work when the object of my fantasies walks into the room. Holy shit.

Buttercup stood there looking around with a dangerous glint in her eyes. Her juicy lips were set in a scowl and her furrowed eyebrows caused the bar in the right brow to catch the light. But, that wasn't what was shocking. She was in black spandex and an emerald green and black sports bra. She had on black fingerless gloves and emerald green Nike sneakers with black mid-calves. _Fuck._

I try to control my rapid breathing as I stare at the former superhero. My eyes rake down her curvaceous body, rolling over the mouthwatering arch of her breasts. As my eyes pass her sports bra, I notice some green on the side of her waist that disappears under her spandex and bra. A green vine covered with leaves and thorns twists its way up her side. It vanishes under the sports bra but then reappears on her shoulder where it spirals to an end. The vine is mostly a peridot green, but at some points, like the thorns and some leaves, it fades to a sinister black. I'm going to guess it also ends on her hip. Shit, how could she have gotten that tattoo? Normal needles can't pierce our skin.

I further my inspection to Buttercup's legs. Now that she doesn't have her long jeans on, I can get a clear view of her tanned legs without having to use my X-ray vision and end up getting attacked by Blossom again.

Her legs are golden and smooth all the way above the knee, but then the golden tone is disrupted by multiple groups of five scratches. The stark white scars ranged from three inches long to almost a foot in length. Upon closer inspection I realized the scratches were all vertical, all had a pattern. My eyes honed in on some of the same scars on her upper arms. It gave her even more of a petrifying and feral presence.

I watch her carefully as she makes her way to a bench press situated about ten feet away from me in the back left corner of the weight room. I stare incredulously as she adds 500 pounds, 250 on either side, to the bar and stars pumping like she's lifting a stuffed animal. My jaw drops and I feel a cold shiver run through my body as my blood rushes to a much… lower place.

It seems I'm not the only one to notice Buttercup's insane action, as the guys and three other girls in the class gather, at a safe distance mind you, around Buttercup. The green and black clad superhuman pays no mind as she continues lifting the bar. She pushes one last time and drops the bar on the resting pad with a loud _clang_. She slowly sits up, and gives her trademark piss-inducing glare to the audience. She isn't even breathing remotely faster! No sweat drips down her face and her muscles aren't trembling from the thirty five reps she just did! That obvious observation, coupled with her glare and scars, cause the onlookers to scramble over one other and sprint out of the room. Well shit that was easy.

I return my attention to the only other inhabitant. Her ferocious emerald eyes slowly close and she takes a deep breath. Suddenly they snap open while simultaneously her head whips in my direction. Thus, a staring contest commences. Neither of us moves and we don't even breathe. (We don't even have to)

In a once in a lifetime event, I decide to kick my pride to the curb and close my eyes. I take a deep breath and on the release I whisper her name. I reopen my eyes and see her trembling. Her eyes are sharp and intense; staring into my own with so much emotion I would need a week to identify each one.

She parts her beautifully plump lips and takes in a breath to say something when suddenly a faraway shout breaks the tension. We snap our heads in the direction of the scream and dart out of the weight room. We weave through the hallways in perfect synchronization until we come to the G wing of the school. The G wing used to hold the auditorium until we raised money for a new one that went in on the opposite end of the school. Now the hallway was completely vacant. Like a ghost-town.

Buttercup and I peer around the corner to see Chase McCarthy holding Celia Davis' wrist tightly in his right hand while his left holds her chin forcefully, making her look at him. Chase has a scowl on his face and Celia's eyes are wide with terror and tears are leaking out and streaming down her face.

"You fucking said you wouldn't talk to Brandon anymore. I told you to stop talking to him!"

"Chase, he's my friend! He's like my brother!" Celia cried out with the tears falling faster as the pain in her wrist increased with Chase's tightening grip.

"I don't fucking care! Don't talk to him anymore!" Chase snarled out, yanking Celia's face closer to his own. Celia cried out again in pain, sobbing uncontrollably. I was going to intervene when vines suddenly shot out of the ground between Chase and Celia, effectively separating the abusive boy from his victim. The vines, which were about three feet in diameter, coiled around Chase like a boa constrictor from hell.

I turn to my right, seeing Buttercup missing. I return my gaze to the hallway and see Buttercup walking towards the trapped teenager. Buttercup turns her gaze to Celia and jerks her head to the exit of the hallway. Celia, now on the floor holding her bruised wrist, stares at her emerald eyed savior for a couple seconds before nodding and dashing right past me out the hallway.

"What the fuck! Get me out of here you crazy bitch!" The struggling boy growls out in frustration. Buttercup continues to walk agonizingly slow towards Chase with her head tilted down so he can't see her face.

The ravenette suddenly lifts her head, unveiling glowing emerald eyes. Chase's face drains of all color, though being the idiot he is, refrains from keeping his mouth shut.

"Let me out of here, bitch!"

"Do you regret it?"

"What?"

"Do you regret hurting her?" Buttercup's voice before had been a steady balance of chimes and snarls, but now, her words have progressively evolved into an animalistic blend. Chase was paling more and more, but his pride would be his downfall.

"Celia? Nah, she likes it rough- SHIT!" Four inch long thorns suddenly germinated from the vine, piercing Chase's clothes and skin.

"I'll ask again, 'do you regret it'?" Buttercup's voice has become completely devoid of human undertone. Her growling was now vicious and spine-chilling, ensuring future agony. Chase's thick skull refused to be slimmed, as he gave her the most senseless glance conceivable.

"I already told you I didn't- what are you doing? How the hell? Cut it out!" After the first sentence left his lips Buttercup began stalking towards him, still slowly, like a furious lion about to obliterate a trespasser. Each step she took her nails elongated into three inch long dagger-like claws. She growled out a terrifying snarl that bared her extended canines. Her pupils warped into slits and glowed even brighter. I don't think Buttercup was in control anymore. She stood right in from of the imprisoned juvenile.

Just as Chase was about to say something else, the animal-like superhuman lashed out with her claws and four gashes that tore through the cheek were seen on Chase's face almost too quickly for me to see. Chase screamed out in agony, you could see his tongue and some of his teeth through his torn cheek.

Buttercup's eyes glowed brighter as the vines shifted, one smaller vine broke free of the others, dragging Chase's right arm with it. Rather than the vine being wrapped around his arm, the thorns were so deep in his wrist that every movement the vine made Chase's arm had to follow. The raven-haired predator looked into the pale-faced teenager's face and with one feral and sadistic grin, snapped the arm.

Chase's bloodcurdling scream resonated through the vacant hallway. Chase passed out from the pain and just as Buttercup was going to strike again, I flew at her and knocked her down. The wild superhuman flipped me over so she was pinning my arms down with her knees. She raised her hand, about to slash down when I said her name. Her raised arm twitched and her glowing emerald eyes faded to normal.

I expected her to fall over or faint from exhaustion like in movies after something like this happens. Instead, she lowers her arm and stands up. She doesn't look me in the eyes as she turns and looks at the battered boy entangled in the thorn-covered vines. Her eyes still hold a chilling anger as she walks up to the unconscious Chase.

I'm about to tackle her again when she lifts a hand to Chase's tattered cheek. A green spark ignites from her palm and her eyes glow again. I stare in awe as the torn ragged cheek knits together. When only some pink swelling is left she moves her palm to his arm. The visible break in Chase's forearm jerks back in place to create a straight line. A sound like a vacuum seal is heard resonating from the arm.

The ravenette's eyes glow brighter as the vines retract and shrink back into the ground. Chase falls to the ground and his body is covered with half inch sized holes bleeding profusely. Buttercup kneels down and waves both palms, the other now glowing too, over the comatose boy. His wounds seal up in no time at all. Buttercup doesn't even seem tired. I would think a power like that would take energy.

Buttercup stands up and picks Chase up by the collar like he weighs as much as a feather. She drops him against the wall so it looks as if he is just sleeping against the wall. I hear her take a deep breath and let it out slowly after she drops the teenager. She turns around and looks me dead in the eye. I smile inwardly. Buttercup isn't one to avoid confrontation.

"What are you thinking?" Her voice cut through the silence. No more of the animal undertone was present. Her voice sounded devoid of emotion now.

I wait a few moments to respond. "Can I punch him once?"

The raven-haired beauty's eyes widen in surprise. Wow, that's one emotion I haven't seen in her eyes yet. She stared at me for a few seconds, caught off guard. Then, her lips twitched into a small smile. Well, it was more of a smirk. Now it's my turn for my eyes to enlarge.

"Buttercup, you lost control, didn't you." Her eyes reached mine and her smirk was gone and her eyes were emotionless once more. She turns and starts walking down the hallway the way from which we came. Her voice rang out when she was about to turn a corner.

"That doesn't concern you, Butch." I watched her retreating figure as it vanishes around the corner, wanting to follow her. This wasn't her just fighting for the sake of fighting. What Chase did to Celia set Buttercup off. I've never seen Buttercup so livid. Not even when she almost killed Princess this morning.

Just as I was about to head to my next class, I stopped in the middle of the empty hallway. One thought and one recent memory passed through my mind that caused electrifying shivers to run down my spine.

_'She said my name'_


End file.
